


Tender Ghosts

by LeoOtherLands



Series: Flesh and Stone [3]
Category: Naruto
Genre: Canon Divergence, Death, F/M, Ghosts, Grief/Mourning, Hurt/Comfort, Kindness, Loss, Love, M/M, Moving On, Multi, Peace, Rare Pairings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-16
Updated: 2018-12-26
Packaged: 2019-09-19 21:49:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,362
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17009844
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LeoOtherLands/pseuds/LeoOtherLands
Summary: Lord Hokage Kakashi Hatake is haunted by memories of his past and the lovers he's lost along the way. Struggling to come to grips with the present, in a position he doesn't find himself worthy of, Kakashi's ghosts tenderly lead him forward to a quietus.





	1. In Your Arms

**Author's Note:**

> I have intentionally chosen to not use archive warnings, as I fear they would give away parts of the story in later chapters. So a heads up here: there is no rape/non-con or underage in this piece. Also, this work is related to the Life and Death of Itachi Uchiha. There is no need to read it before this, however.

“ _Hokage_.”

“Lord _Hokage_.”

I raised a hand at the greetings, acknowledging them with the gesture and a nod of my head, even while my eyes stayed unfocused. My mind wasn’t on the happenings of the world around me. When I was passed the last straggling groups of people walking in the evening, I put my hands in my pockets and ambled on, head down, thinking.

It was a good thing my feet knew the way without my having to use conscious thought to direct them, or I never would have reached the bench. As it was, I plopped down on the wooden seat facing the lake without even pausing to check if someone else was there. It was well there wasn’t. Once seated, I slumped down until my head hit the backrest, and I could look up at the colored sky.

I still found it odd to look with both eyes. Not having to cover the left to hide the S _haringan_ I no longer possessed would be something I never got used to. I might have both my own eyes again, but I missed my friend’s eye. It had been a link between us I no longer carried.

But that wasn’t what consumed my mind. In the moment, my distraction had a different name, all my thoughts concentrated in a single word.

“Itachi.”

I remembered the first time I met him clearly. He was nothing but a skinny kid, younger than me when I’d joined the _Anbu_. Looking at his slight form and age and detached, but sensitive face, I wondered if he could do the job. Most thought him distant and serious, but it wasn’t hard to see the sensitivity beneath. The _Anbu_ was no place for softness, and I knew it, even as I welcomed him with the rest and assured he would fit in fine.

I was wrong in my doubt of his abilities, though. Our first mission together proved Itachi was more than capable of preforming to task. When Lord Third _Hokage_ Hiruzen sent Guy, Kosuke Maruboshi, and two others to meet with envoys from the Land of Woods, Lord Danzō ordered Itachi and I to shadow them in the event of the double cross he expected would happen.

The two of us followed Guy’s team, sticking to the shadows and tree branches. The kid was good at stealth, an upside of being small perhaps, and he didn’t mind the hard, abrasive bark digging into our backsides while we sat in a high tree, watching Guy’s team as they stopped for lunch. I did catch him studying our charges with intent, though. His dark eyes were unfathomable, and he’d said little, but I thought I knew what he was thinking.

I raised my eyes from my book, adjusting my seat with care so the porcelain, dog mask I’d removed to eat wouldn’t fall from my lap. “It’s kind of fitting isn’t it? We’re the _Anbu_ Black Ops, the Dark Side. While they’re down there enjoying a hot meal, we’re sitting up here eating Food Pills.”

He glanced at me, his own porcelain, cat mask secure on his belt, his eyes slipping over me like they could see beneath the cloth mask I still wore to cover my face and left eye. “That’s not what I was thinking; I don’t resent the difference in our situations. But you’re right about one thing. It is fitting we’re up here. We’re their shadows. We walk beside them unnoticed and keep them safe. A shadow shouldn’t be noticed, unless it’s needed.”

I blinked at the kid. Practically the first thing he’d said to me and it was so far from what I’d expected. It didn’t sound a thing like what someone his age would say. Having nothing to return, I made a sound and turned my eyes back on my book.

There was a time of silence, filled only with the chirping of birds and the wind. This was broken by him saying my name.

“Kakashi?”

“Hmm?” I had my chin pillowed on my hand and didn’t feel like moving.

“What is it you read?”

I blinked again, looking up at him. He sat, leaned up against the bulk of a rising tree branch, restful but tensed to spring at once, his eyes focused on Guy’s team for hint of danger. He looked so dang _accustomed_ to that pose one could almost forget he was a kid, except his hair kept getting in his face. That weird, uneven, raven hair.

Left wordless, I made another inarticulate sound and held the book out to him. He accepted it, instead of just glancing at it, and turned it over in his hands, fingers caressing it.

“ _Icha, Icha_ ,” he said (as if he knew it), handing the book back. I made no comment and there was no further conversation, as Guy’s team moved again shortly after.

We trailed them until they met up with the envoys from the Land of Woods. It took only a few minutes to prove Danzō’s anticipation of a double cross was correct. There wasn’t time to wonder if the slight Itachi would manage the task of murder, only to spring. And when it was done, the kid was as cold as someone twice his age. I could see he was stung by the blood on his hands, but his face remained detached, and he made no complaints.

I didn’t get a hint of his true feelings until we got back to _Konoha_. Taking off our gear and stowing it in our designated receptacles, I heard a thud and looked over to see him, shacking with his flack jacket on the ground and eyes burning red with the _Sharingan_.

“Hey, you okay?”

“Death does not appeal to me.”

The way he said it, looking down at his trembling hands, unable to even grip his gear, stabbed at me. I went over and picked up the fallen jacket. Held it out to him.

“The way you say that makes you sound older than you are. Like you’ve killed someone before.”

“When I was four, during the Third Great _Shinobi_ War.” He turned away, resting his forehead on the top rail of his gear stash.

My arm dropped, jacket dangling from it.

“That’s how it is, huh?”

“That’s how it is.”

He calmed quickly, this kid turned a man all too young, his eyes dulling and tremors stilling. He thanked me for the help, and we parted ways without too many more words. After, I knew to keep an eye on Itachi when there was killing involved in our missions. He was steady during but pained in the post event. I couldn’t say I blamed him. I was too. I just hid it better.

It was maybe a year later Itachi changed our dynamic. We’d become accustomed to working together and working well together. Whenever there was something which needed to be done, we were the two to do it. I got used to sitting in trees with him or curling up back to back with him on the ground for warmth. I got used to his quiet voice and silences and the heat of his skin. Even his smell and the way his dark eyes flared red when he had to kill and the way his uneven hair fell over them in attempt to hide it. I knew what move he’d make in a fight from the moves of our opponents and reacted to it and in tune with it. We danced together in deadly waltzes and tangos, sometimes even conjoining our hands to weave signs. I couldn’t imagine working with anyone else and I couldn’t imagine what secret thought he kept behind those dark, brooding eyes.

We’d just completed a mission outside of _Konoha_. There’d been killing and death, more than I had a taste for. Itachi was not well. His shacking was worse than usual, and his eyes were red like the blood we’d bathed the ground with. He’d curled himself by the fire I’d allowed for his sake (though he didn’t know it), and not moved from it. I sat a ways apart with my _Icha, Icha_ , trying to hide the hurt in my own heart, so I didn’t notice when he opened those burning _Sharingan_.

“Do you know how you look when you read and forget yourself?”

The question startled me out of myself. I looked up to meet those eyes. “Hmm?” The wordless exclamation was all that came out.

The man I still thought of as a kid pushed himself up to hunch over the fire, his hair hanging in his face. “Looking at you at times like this is the only thing that holds me together, Kakashi.”

“Nah,” the sound escaped me as the book slipped out of my fingers. Itachi never said anything idly and I couldn’t believe what I was hearing.

Wobbling, shaking, my companion pushed himself to his feet and retrieved my book, held it out to me. I stared, blank, up at him for a time in which he didn’t move, apart for his tremors. When I finally reached for the book, he let me take it, then he leaned down to kiss me through my mask.

The book dropped out of my hands again.

Though his lips hadn’t even touched mine through the fabric, they burned like the _kekkei genkai_ , and I stared stupid and dumb. I might as well have been a statue with a flaming, flaring face and nerveless hands.

“Ah… I…”

“I care for you, Kakashi. It does not mean you need do the same for me.” He brushed his fingers over the skin of my face, under my right eye, then drifted back to the fire.

We didn’t say anything else the rest of the night, and Itachi made no further mention of his feelings for me. I could have let it go and he would have allowed the fact of my rejection without complaint. Only I couldn’t get the feeling of the kiss out of my mind. It lingered at the back of my thoughts every time I saw Itachi and grew unmasked in my dreams or across my mental field while I read _Icha, Icha_. My burning lips were like an itch I couldn’t scratch.

Or, wouldn’t.

I let the itch fester, turning me sour and quiet. Guy noted it and poked at it, in his over enthusiastic way, until I snapped at him over our sake, earning me confusion and surprise from him and Iruka both.

Standing up from the bar table, I told my Eternal Rival to leave it alone and walked home half drunk. Once in my own room, I stripped down to a pair of short pants and collapsed on my bed, face turned to the side, expression droll. I wanted to sink down into the mattress and forget. Forget Guy, forget Iruka, forget Itachi and the way his lips made mine burn.

My ghost had something else in mind, though. My hand was just slipping unconsciously down to my sternum when my bed sagged slightly under a small weight.

“Thinking of something, Kakashi?”

I made a sound and started up, jerking my hand away from myself. “Rin?”

My own, private ghost smiled at me, her eyes pulling closed over her purple-painted cheeks. “Guess you were.”

I flopped down on my back, pressing a hand flat over my face. “I wasn’t expecting you, Rin.”

“You mean you weren’t expecting me to interrupt your dirty daydream.”

I made another sound and ripped my hand away form my face. “Rin! Aren’t you a little young to be talking like that?”

She only grinned at me impishly. “Oh, Kakashi. I was young when I died, I’m not so young anymore, even if I still look it. Besides,” she crawled further on my bed, so she could lean over me, her brown hair hanging in my face, “we used to do more interesting things than that all the time.”

“Rin!”

Her face lit up with another smile, but it was sad too. A mutual sensation. The reminder of our by-gone affair stabbed at me.

Rin slid away from me and across the floor to where my gear lay strewn. She picked up my discarded novel. “I didn’t come to tease you, Kakashi. Obito was always better at that.”

I leaned up on an elbow to watch her turn my book over and over in her hands, wistful and aching. “Why don’t I ever see Obito?”

“You’ll see Obito again soon, Kakashi. When the time’s right.”

“What’s that supposed to mean, Rin? Am I going to die?”

She frowned, but not at my words. “Honestly, Kakashi, I don’t know how you can read this over and over again.” With a little nudge of feigned disdain, _Icha, Icha_ was deposited on my end table. My Rin, my tender ghost who’d haunted me softly since the day she’d thrown herself on my fist to die, came back to my bed and knelt down next to it. “I came to talk to you about Itachi.”

“Itachi?”

“You like him, don’t you, Kakashi?”

“No. Rin, I-”

She put her fingers over my lips, stopping me. “You talk too much, Kakashi. You do like him, don’t you.”

I let myself _whoosh_ back down into a boneless mess on the mattress. “I don’t need Itachi. I have you, Rin.”

She smiled, but it really was sad then. “You’ll always have me, Kakashi. But I’ve been gone a long time, and you’ve been alone with _Icha, Icha_.” Her brow furled. “It’s time you were with someone again, Kakashi.”

I dragged a hand over the part of my face not squished into my bed. “Being with him will only hurt.”

“Yes, it will. But, being without him will hurt worse.”

She stood up, folding her arms over her flat chest. “Now, stop acting horrible to your friends and go fuck Itachi.”

“Rin!”

I sat up straight and stiff, but she was gone with another of her grins. Alone, I collapsed on my bed to sleep off my sake in the hopes I could write off her visit as my being drunk come morning.

This would have been convenient, but I wasn’t that drunk and, though they hurt, I treasured Rin’s visits and didn’t want to cast any of them away so carelessly. Which left me to digest Rin’s words.

I didn’t want to. But I did. It gnawed at me and kept itching under my skin. Pressuring that place beneath my stomach and between my legs. Every time I was with Itachi I swelled until I thought I’d lose my mind. I hovered like that, between tortured pain and natural need, until it drove me to carelessness.

Itachi put himself between me and a _kunai_ I should have been able to dodge. He avoided it easily, but all I could see was the other half of my team in danger because of my foolishness.

Feeling guilty and stupid, I tried to drown my indecision in sake. I was doing a fairly good job when a faint brush of sensation moved passed me. I raised my weary head to see Rin looking back over her shoulder at me, face serious and calm.

“Stop being so stubborn, Kakashi.”

“Rin.” I reached out a hand to touch her, but she was already gone. I let my head _thunk_ back down on the table for a time, while I stared blandly, but the sake didn’t blank out the ache in my chest.

Weaving, I dumped money on my table to pay my tab and aimed for a particular destination. The streets of _Konoha_ were dark and warm in the dead of summer. The _Anbu_ boarding house was squat and square and seldom used. Most _Anbu_ members lived close enough not to bother staying there, but not Itachi. He spent at least two nights a week there.

I knocked on his door, then slumped against it, so I fell inward, into Itachi’s arms, when he opened the door.

“Ah! Kakashi!”

I wrapped my arms around his neck and hung my head on his shoulder. “Itachi, I found you.”

“You have.” He gripped my waist with one arm and used the other hand to close the door behind me. “What’s wrong?”

“I can’t get you out of my head.” I hitched a sob, it hurt so bad. Or, was it a laugh? I couldn’t tell.

“Kakashi-”

“Take me to the bed,” I said, _thunking_ my forehead on his in an attempt to get to his lips, forgetting I still had my mask on.

“You’ve been drinking,” Itachi responded, attempting to shuffle me toward his chair.

“I’ve been trying to forget about you,” I retorted, trying to aim for his mouth again. “I don’t want to go to the chair.”

“You want to go to the bed. Kakashi, you don’t know what you’re saying.”

I grunted. I twisted him around and shoved him against the wall, my hands braced on the wood on either side of his head.

“Like hell I don’t. I’m drunk, not, not…” My shoulders and head sagged. “Just kiss me, Itachi. Please, just kiss me.”

My companion was warm against me. Still in his gear like I was. He was still a time before he reached for my face. “Then you’ll have to let me do this.”

I went stiff when he touched my mask. My breath hitched. His hands paused.

“Kakashi-”

“Do it.” My voice was rough. A growl. “Just do it.”

He did with slow care, like reverence. And he traced my face with fingertips used to holding hilts, but smooth for all that. The hands of a lover and not a killer. I shivered as his hands lingered on the tender flesh by my eye. The first time he’d seen my real face or my _Sharingan_.

“You’re beautiful, Kakashi.”

I swallowed. “Would you just-”

His mouth shoved up against mine, hungry and insistent, and I felt something tear loose inside me. Burning. Everywhere burning.

“Can’t!” I gasped, breaking away for air, head turning frantically. “Bed! Please, Itachi! Bed!” I was weeping with it. Why? Why was I weeping?

Itachi was merciful. He turned me to the bed and kissed me again. He wanted to be soft, slow. I couldn’t. I _needed_ to be demanding and _hot_ , and I couldn’t get our gear off fast enough.

Only then I didn’t know what to do. I’d only ever been with Rin. But Itachi knew. He knew what to do and I almost died in the ripping fire rending the inside of me.

Itachi pushed me down on the bed and took me in his mouth until I was jerking and heaving, hands convulsing, clutching at the mattress. Then he scooted up to my waist and I was inside of him and he was moving and all I could do was breathe until I came apart with him and I was sober and my hot tears covered my face. And Itachi, this man I wondered how I could ever have thought of as a kid, was laying by me and taking me in his arms to hold me till I could get a handle on myself.

“I love you, Kakashi.”

A small sound escaped me. I turned my eyes to look at him and his face was normal, soft, and serious.

“I- I-”

“Stop being so stubborn, Kakashi.” The words were softer than Itachi’s face and Rin’s smile pulled her eyes closed over her painted cheeks for just an instant and was gone.

I curled into Itachi’s slight figure, inhaling his oh-so-familiar scent and warmth. “I love you too, Itachi.”

My friend, my team mate, my recent lover, pulled me tight and wouldn’t let me go.

From then on, we pursued our desires in secret. On the surface, nothing in our demeaner toward each other changed and our quality of work didn’t diminish, but when no one was around, on missions and in my apartment and in the _Anbu_ boarding house, we were lovers.

Itachi was kind. And, after that first night, I allowed things to move slowly, allowed Itachi to teach me. It wasn’t the same as with Rin. Not the sex. Sex was sex, after a fashion. The love wasn’t the same. With Rin it had been fresh and painless. A natural thing I couldn’t help. With Itachi it felt like I was holding blades to my skin. Blades of grief. Every step forward with my new lover was a new cutting memory. I could have let the memories go, but to do so would be to let go of my love for Rin and I couldn’t. It was better to love Itachi and hurt all the while than to forget my ghost.

And despite the pain, I did love Itachi. Loved him deep. Loved him enough to reveal the reasons for my pain, just as I’d consented to bare my face. Loved him enough it was a jolting, bleeding wound when I discovered I wasn’t the only one Itachi loved.

Looking for my companion in the woods, where I knew he went to train, I stumbled on him kissing Shisui of the Body Flicker. Worse than that, Itachi saw me. It was several hours before I allowed him to find me in the _Anbu_ boarding house. Then we were silent together on his bed for some while. Me sitting, him lying stretched out behind my back.

“Do you despise me, Kakashi?”

I shook my head, eyes on the floor. “No. I just wish you’d told me.”

He was quiet. Rising, he draped himself over my back, letting his arms hang down my chest. “You’re not angry.”

“How can I be angry?” My hands clasped together. I looked through them. “Do you remember when I told you about Rin and Obito?”

Itachi nodded against my shoulder. “Your friend and your lover.”

“Rin wasn’t just with me. She was with Obito too. Obito and I… Didn’t get along. I was too cold and concerned with following the rules of the _shinobi_. Obito was so vibrant and positive he would become the best _shinobi_ ever. The _Hokage_. We were so different, and Rin loved us both. I- Fought it.”

“You can’t be jealous, Kakashi. I don’t love you any less for loving Shisui and Izume.”

I didn’t flinch at the admission I wasn’t just second, but third with Itachi. “That’s what Rin used to tell me.”

“But it didn’t stop you from wanting to have someone just to yourself.”

This time it was my turn to be quiet. There didn’t seem to be much to say. Itachi sighed. He took me and pushed me, with gentle hands, into the mattress.

“You do have me to yourself, Kakashi. When I am with you, it is just the two of us.”

He kissed me and made love to me in his slow, tender way, making me moan with longing under him. When it was done, he let me up so we could both breathe. Itachi’s hair hung in his face and I thought he was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen.

I pushed his hair back and kissed him. “I don’t know what I’d do without you, Itachi. I love you.”

“And I love you, Kakashi.”

Sighing again, I dropped my legs over the side of the bed. “I just wish we didn’t have to dance around in the dark. But I just don’t know what Danzō would do if he found out.”

“Danzō.” Itachi’s voice was not as it should have been and, when I looked at him, his eyes were red with the _Sharingan_. “Do you know, he once told me the lines on my face were the signs of ill fortune?”

“What?”

Itachi shook his head, pressing a hand over his eyes to hide the bleeding, bloody fire. The fire I had only seen burn him when killing need occur. I knew something was wrong but couldn’t fathom what.

I turned back to him, reaching to take that small frame in my hands. “Itachi. What is it?”

He spoke no words, just shaking his head again and curling into me. “Just hold me, Kakashi. I just want to be in your arms.”

I did what he asked, holding him tight in what was a total reverse of the usual. It was always Itachi who held me, soothing away my aches and pains. A spark of unease bloomed in me, but I didn’t know what it meant, and I couldn’t possibly imagine what was about to happen.

It wasn’t long after Itachi’s strangeness the Uchiha Clan met its end. I couldn’t believe it was my Itachi. Couldn’t believe it was the man who trembled for hours after any mission where we had to kill. Looking into the Bingo Book and seeing my lover’s face on the page, I couldn’t believe him capable of committing such an atrocity. But I _thought_ it all to clear he had, and, as time went on, I was forced to accept it.

What other explanation existed?

Rin was my only comfort. A shallow one.

I was removed from the _Anbu_ by Hiruzen, who thought my continued employment there would do me no good. Suddenly and somehow, I found myself a teacher of two failed teams I sent back to the Academy. Then, the teacher of Sasuke Uchiha.

It was an unexpected and wrenching thing to be instructing my former lover’s little brother. Sasuke was so like and unlike Itachi all at once. I become determined to do better for him than Itachi.

Maybe this was why it hurt so bad when Sasuke ran off to kill Itachi for what his older brother had done to their family and clan. Another failure on my part. One which haunted me through all the Fourth Great _Shinobi_ War where I met Obito again (just as Rin said I would). I might have found Obito alive, but I lost his _Sharingan_ , just as I discovered Itachi was no murder far too late for it to matter. So many meetings and revelations bringing me only to pain and to losing Obito at the end. Losing him for good and real.

Rin, Obito, Itachi. All gone on before me while I was left alive and, of all things, promoted to _Hokage_.

I sank down lower on the bench, the sky above me several shades darker with the coming night after my remembrance. I didn’t want to be _Hokage_. If I was honest with myself, I would have to say I wasn’t sure what I wanted to be.

“You need to stop sulking, Kakashi.”

I turned my head and there was my lover coming toward me, his cloak flowing and rustling around him in the mellow evening light. He sat by me, his face as ever, serious and sensitive and soft under the deep lines carved there.

“Itachi.”

I said the name and reached for him.


	2. My Phantom Love

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, let me tell you a funny story. I was researching who Kakashi's assistants were (I'd never even heard of Astronomer before...), and I got tired of looking up character information. So, when I got to the point where I needed a bar keep to get my characters nice and drunk, I looked over at my muse and asked him to cook up a portly, bad tempered, bar keep. Well... My muse, unfortunately, looks and acts a lot like Hisoka from Hunter X Hunter. So... This is what happens when an unpredictable, clown man is running the show. We now have an enigmatic bar keep. Yay. What in bloody hell am I meant to do with that muse, huh, what? And, all he says is you can take it or leave it... Gawd dang it. At least they're only a bar keep whose sole purpose is to get my characters drunk...

“I’m not sulking.”

“No. You’re just sitting alone, starring at the setting sun reflected in the lake.”

I glowered at him, my expression droll. “Did you come to scolded me, Itachi?”

He wove his fingers further through mine where they intermingled on the bench, and laid his head on my shoulder, snuggling against me. “When have I ever come just to scolded you, Kakashi?”

I made a little sound, half of sarcasm, half of contentment. I’d always been told ghosts were without substance, insubstantial and hollow, but my ghosts never had been. I’d always felt them as solid and real as when they’d lived. I could feel Itachi’s warmth against me and his heartbeat through my skin. It was a blessing and a comfort, as well as a heartache.

“Then why are you here, Itachi? You didn’t come just to watch the sun set with me.”

He sighed and sat up, poked me in the forehead with his free hand. “I came because when we die, we leave behind a piece of ourselves with those we love. I am as much a part of you as I am of Sasuke.”

“Yeah.” I sat up and ran a hand over my face. “Do you visit him too?”

“You don’t want the answer to that, Kakashi. You’re just upset you don’t see Rin anymore.”

I dropped my hand, letting my wrist connect with my knee as I hunched over. It was hard to admit he was right. I had no resentment for the fact my lover haunted me, but it stung when he appeared Rin had vanished out of my life.

Tears burned at the backs of my eyes, and I dashed them away. “Why don’t I see Rin anymore, Itachi? Or Obito? I haven’t seen him since the war.”

“Rin is with Obito. He has a lot to talk to her about and has waited a long time to do it.”

“Right.”

Itachi sighed again. He released my hand and pushed me up, so I was leaning on the backrest once more. Then he straddled my lap, his _Akatsuki_ cloak pulling tight over his legs. He had persisted in looking as he did shortly before his death, though I had a hunch he could look however he wanted. My lover wrapped his arms around my neck and looked down at me. Pressed his forehead to mine.

“You can’t be jealous, Kakashi, you’ll be with Rin and Obito again soon.”

I let myself slip into his hold, liking it and hating how I was getting hard all at once. “And what about you, Itachi? When you’re not here with me, are you with Shisui and Izume?”

His face was sad. Sorry he had to hurt me even as he said the words. “With Shisui and Izume and Kisame.”

Kisame. The other individual Itachi had been with during his time away from me in the _Akatsuki_. The reminder of him was another, bitter wound. I’d gotten Itachi back only when he’d died, but I still didn’t have him to myself.

“Kakashi.” My name pulled me back to the present, and to the weight of my lover pressing down on my steadily rising… Line of thought. Feeling this thought process all too clearly, what with it jabbing him in the center of the issue at hand, Itachi lowered his head to put his lips on mine.

He wasn’t rough, Itachi was so seldom anything but gentle, but it just about broke me apart. “You know,” I said when he drew back, eyes brooding, smoldering, “if I keep sitting here like this, people are going to think I’ve cracked and started talking to myself.”

Itachi laughed just a little and dunked his head down to nestle our foreheads together again, just for a moment. “Then perhaps you should stop sulking, and go to the reception dinner, Kakashi. You’re the _Hokage_ , and Lord Gaara of the Sand is expecting you.”

I wilted in every aspect, going limp on the bench. “You really did come to scold me.”

“Kakashi.” Itachi removed himself from my lap and held a hand out to me. I took it and he brought me to my feet. “I am here for the same reason I have always been here. Because I love you, Kakashi.” He let go my hand, dark eyes full of something I didn’t understand. “But, for now, you are _Hokage_.”

I groaned and ran a hand over my eyes and down my face. “Yeah. Guess I’ll get going then.” Dropping my shoulders, I buried my hands in my pockets. “Will you still be around when this ridiculous ‘official business’ is over?”

Itachi faced the lake, but his gaze was sidelong at me. “I will always be here, Kakashi.”

“Yeah,” I said, turning away. I trudged off a ways before turning back. Itachi was still standing by the lake, backlit by the fading sun, eyes on the shimmering quicksilver and shadow water, head raised, hair moving in the subtle wind play. The most beautiful thing in my life. My phantom love.

My heart was a torn, bleeding mess by the time I turned up at the _Hokage_ Residence, eyes downcast. But the state of my heart was nothing new. I brushed it off like a nagging fly. What I couldn’t brush off was the way Shizune and Astronomer instantly swarmed me.

“Do you have any idea how late you are?!” Shizune raged.

Raged? Maybe more despaired. Astronomer didn’t even bother with a reprimand. She just pushed me along, face stoic and resigned.

“He knows.”

I just groaned, expression dower, and let them usher me into my room. The two women had me out of my gear and into the official _Hokage_ robes before I could think, then it was more pushing, reprimanding, and reminding all the way to the great hall where Gaara’s reception was to take place.

“This is an _important_ night, Kakashi,” Shizune admonished, walking backward before me and straightening my headpiece.

“He knows,” Astronomer intoned.

“Lord Gaara is in _Konoha_ to reaffirm the alliance between the Sand and the Leaf. Your signature is required, next to Lord Gaara’s, on the paperwork to make it formal and proper.”

“He knows.”

“But he doesn’t care!” Shizune wailed.

“Umm…” The sound was more resignation than anything. I did my best to ignore my assistants until I was shoved into the great hall in front of the red haired Gaara, who looked far more comfortable in his _Kazekage_ robes than I felt in mine, despite his age.

“Lord Gaara.”

“Lord Kakashi.”

We made the necessary greetings and danced around the expected inquires of each other’s villages. All under the inquisitive eyes of a full hall of _shinobi_ and _daimyō._ It was a choreographed waltz of tedium and protocol, up until Gaara and I scratched our names across several sheets of paper. Then the pageantry dissolved into a riot of rich food and bland drink.

At first, Gaara and I were centers of attention, passed from one group of hand to another. Blessedly, by some miracle, this didn’t last. Somehow, around midnight I was shunted off into a corner where I could while away the remaining hours of the night in isolation.

And regret my drink wasn’t stronger. I starred with gloomy eyes into my watery liquor, wondering if there was any hope of getting some proper sake. I was still lost in these delusions when a rustle of loose fabric came up beside me. Expecting Itachi, I looked up to find Gaara instead.

“You weren’t expecting me,” he said, taking in my wide eyes.

I shook my head. “Sorry, I was thinking of someone.”

“If you’re waiting for someone, I can move on.”

I leaned back against the wall, eyes dropping. “I was thinking of someone who’s dead.”

Gaara didn’t apologize or try to excuse himself. He just closed his eyes a moment and made a rumbling sound of understanding. “There’ve been too many people lost.”

I nodded and downed my drink. Then held up the glass and glowered at it. “This stuff’s awful.

“Along with this whole affair.”

“Not too fond of all the pomp, either?”

Gaara’s dark-rimed eyes were still and tired. The red tattoo above his left eye ( _ai_ , love) glowed under the white _kage_ headpiece he wore. “I understand the need to keep the alliance between _Konoha_ and the Sand strong, but I would have preferred signing the papers in your office in quiet before sharing a drink. This pageant is for appearances only.”

I glanced around. By some fortune, neither Shizune nor Astronomer were in sight and no one else seemed to be paying us any mind. “It’s too late for a quiet signing, but maybe we can still have that drink.”

“What do you mean?”

Casting another look around, I beckoned him with a hand. “I’m the _Hokage_. I’ve become an expert on sneaking out of the Residence.”

Unnoticed, I led Gaara to an unsuspecting patch of wall. I wove a quick sign of opening and traced a blank portion of stone. Without a sound, a doorway materialized, the stone wall fading, and I grinned behind my cloth mask.

“So, how about that drink?”

Gaara’s critical expression didn’t waver. He sparred a look for the hall, then ducked into the secret space ahead of me. “What are these passages?” he asked after several minutes of windings and turnings.

“I’d guess the first _Hokage_ built them as a private means of navigating his Residence,” I said with a shrug. “I found a reference to them in an old log and spent the last few months mapping them out.”

My last words were combined with another opening sign, which let us out in a corridor of quest quarters. Gaara looked about.

“Very convenient. What now?”

“Your room should be somewhere around here. Get out of those robes and meet me over there.” I pointed to a large window across the hall.

Gaara nodded, and I made time to my own room. Though I took less than a half dozen minutes to strip off my _Hokage_ attire and dress in my usual gray gear, Gaara was already waiting for me in his red tunic and loose pants when I arrived at our meeting place.

“What is the next act of our escape? Back to the secret passages?”

I found myself grinning at the younger man in the way which made my eyes squeeze shut. It as oddly good to be sharking official duty and pulling off an unannounced exit (sure to drive my assistants mad) with someone else.

“We’re ninja,” I said, unlatching the window and shoving it outward, “now we use the skills we’ve honed.” I straddled the windowsill, one leg in, one leg out, and cast my unlikely companion in misdeed an amused glance. “Easy and nothing special.”

“Rather childish.”

“Uh-huh.”

I dropped out the window to the roof below, peered over the edge before looking back for Gaara. The _Kazekage_ had opted for a little more than simple. He descended to the roof I squatted on with the aid of a sand cloud. I blinked, taken aback. There was something striking in the image. The red-haired, stoic faced man with the heavily accented eyes standing straight, with crossed arms, lowering with unconscious grace on a coalescence of his own _chakra_ and determination.

“You look unsettled, Kakashi.”

I let my expression turn dower. “It’s not fair using a sand technique.”

Gaara made a little sound in his throat. “You said we would use the skills we’d honed. But as you can’t do it,” he held a hand out to me, “there is enough room for both of us.”

I allowed the man to pull me unto the condensed sand cloud, startled by the tingle along my hand where our skin touched.

“Where to now?”

“Bring us down, nice and easy, over there.” I pointed to a region of the village along the cliff wall where the buildings clustered close together. “We should walk from there. This cloud is a bit flashy for stealth.” I was surprised my voice wasn’t husky. I found myself in need of a drink worse than before.

Gaara didn’t seem to notice. He guided the cloud to the ground, hugging the curves of the Residence with skill, and dissipating our mode of transport once we touched down. I didn’t trust my voice, so I tucked my hands in my pockets, made a sound, and shuffled off, motioning with my head for Gaara to follow.

We trekked into the narrow twists and back alleys, until Gaara looked uncertain of where he was, then went a bit further. My bar of choice was a little mote right on the edge of the village. Actually, built right into the wall, like a cave made of wood. The interior was windowless, but mellowly lit by lanterns and candles, causing the liquor to glow. Amber behind glass.

Ducking inside and sliding onto a seat at the bar, I was relieved to see the place was empty.

“Hey, Kakashi.”

I propped my chin on a hand and acknowledged the voice with a grunt.

“Aren’t you supposed to be at some fancy thing at the _Hokage_ Residence?”

“Yeah. Ditched out to look for a decent drink.”

“And not by yourself this time.” Amusement marked the voice as its owner appeared, wiping her hands on a rag. Dark was a woman hard to define. Not old or young, not small but not large either. Flat in the chest and dark in the eye but sporting a braid of silver hair down her back, bright enough to cut, just like the finely etched _kunai_ hidden in her sleeves. The woman had shown up in _Konoha_ sometime after the war, blown in on a strange wind. The first time I’d frequented her bar, I’d asked where she came from and only been met with her unfathomable eyes. “From the dark,” she’d said. “Same as any _shinobi_.” I hadn’t bothered asking questions since. Just enjoyed her hospitality. But Gaara seemed as mystified by her as I’d been on my first visit.

“Who might you be? Not often Kakashi brings anyone here.”

“This is Gaara,” I offered, indicating he should sit by me.

“Lord Gaara of the Sand.” Dark rolled a hip, so she was leaning up against the bar. “And Lord Kakashi of the Leaf. What can I get you distinguished runaways?”

“Sake,” I said. “And whatever Gaara wants you can add to my tab.”

“That’s not necessary,” my fellow _kage_ protested, but Dark waved him away.

“Don’t worry about it. Kakashi will never pay his tab anyway.”

I glowered at her. “Yes, I will.”

“No, you won’t.”

Dark put a bottle of sake and a glass in front of me. She ran a hand through my hair, as if I was a kid. Then turned her eyes on Gaara.

“Wine,” he stated.

Dark brought it, then reached for Gaara’s face. He made a sound and froze as her fingers grazed over his skin. They lingered on his tattoo.

“Love,” she said. “But that wasn’t what you meant when you wrote it. You’ve come through the dark, too.”

“You’re scaring him, Dark.”

She tweaked my hair. “Jealous, Kakashi?”

“You’re blind,” Gaara stated.

“Only my eyes. Drink up my lords.”

I grunted again and shooed her away with my fingers. “Get out of here, Dark.”

Gaara and I watched her retreat to the back alcove she inhabited. “She is strange.”

“Yeah. Try not to let her get under your skin.” I poured sake, held out my glass. “She serves a damn good drink, though.”

“Kakashi?”

“Umm?”

“If she is blind, how did she know what my tattoo said?”

I offered a shrug. “I think it’s something in the _chakra_ , but that’s just a guess. There’s no point asking Dark questions.”

We let the matter of our host go, drinking in silence for some time. Dark brought us both a second bottle before we said anything else. Face flushed and suffused with a warm glow, I rested, chin on hand, starring dreamily into my glass.

“So, this satisfy that wish to share a drink, Lord Gaara?”

“It has.” Gaara’s head was pillowed on his arm on the bar. His eyes were misty, and his normally tamed hair was a mess, falling over his cheeks. I couldn’t seem to keep my eyes off him in that rumpled state. He seemed over-young and vulnerable and soft. “I think it has been more than sufficient.”

“Umm… We’re both drunk.”

Gaara shifted, drowsy. “This will be difficult to explain.” The _Kazekage_ turned his face into his arm. “What was it we were meant to do tomorrow, Kakashi?”

“Ahh…” Little flashes of memory meandered around and through my addled mind. “Shizune mentioned something about visiting an archaeological dig. A place from the time of the Sage of Six Paths and the founding of _ninshū_.”

“More pageantry. How unfortunate.”

I managed a dry chuckle before gulping another sake. “We could always try for another escape.”

“We could,” Gaara pulled his head from his arm, turning his green eyes on me, freezing me and forcing a little sound from me Gaara didn’t notice, “but I do not think it will so easy a second time. Our attendants will be more careful after this. Kakashi?”

My breath was hitched, and I couldn’t move. His eyes were like glass shards. Shiny with alcohol and something more. Something like a half-remembered dream.

“Like what you see, Kakashi?” Dark asked, tweaking my hair again. “No time to think about it now, though. Shizune and Astronomer are coming with some of Gaara’s people.”

“Ngh! What?!”

“Don’t worry about it.” Dark pointed to her alcove. “Go out the back way. It’ll take you outside the wall.”

Drunk or not, Gaara and I took Dark’s advice with speed. There was a short, wide passage and a low door, then nothing but trees and night and cool air on our faces.

“That was a close call,” Gaara panted, leaning up on a tree with one bracing arm. “For a blind woman, Dark has incredible sight.”

I made an agreeing sound, pressing my back to the tree where Gaara leaned, and looking up at the stars. My neck drooped, angling my gaze at Gaara, as if pulled by a string. Green eyes, and rumpled, ruffled hair. So lovely.

A memory swirled up through the haze of sake and time. Other eyes, dark eyes, and how they looked at me in the night beside a fire.

“Looking at you is the only thing that holds me together.” The words slid out, slurred, but all too clear at once. My own eyes were wide, focused on Gaara, who made a noise in his throat and looked up at me.

“Kakashi?”

My hand reached out, as if pulled by some other force than my will. The thought I finally understood what Itachi had meant ripped a hole through my chest and I _had to_ rest my hand on that face. Gentle. A wisp of a touch. Just enough to feel the heat of his skin. My eyes burned, and it was beyond me to know they were misted with tears.

“Lord Kakashi.” Gaara repeated my name with the same startled surprise I felt. He raised a hand, and I expected he would brush mine away. Instead, he laid it over mine, pressing our skin together.

Clanging alarms went off in my head. His tantalizing flesh was hot against mine. Blistering. Jolts and tingles ran all through me, swelling a place which had no business being aroused when Itachi wasn’t around.

I pulled my hand away, trying to step back, and only tripping instead. Gaara made an attempt to catch me, clutching at me as I tumbled, but I only off balanced him into my fall. Then we were both on the ground, Gaara on top of me, breathing heavy.

My heart fluttered, turned over. I swore Gaara felt it, his face flashing something like pain before he said my name and lowered his lips over mine, kissing me right through my mask.

“I’ve never seen you without this.” He traced the fabric, slow, giving me every opportunity to say no. Only I couldn’t. Couldn’t say only Itachi took off my mask. Couldn’t say anything because my heart was beating sake through my veins and I hadn’t had sex since before Itachi had joined the _Akatsuki_ , and I wanted it! Wanted it like a half-starved man. Wanted the way Gaara’s fingers peeled away the fabric covering my face, wanted the way he kissed my actual lips.

Then it was our clothes coming off. Fast. So fast. And everything was on fire. And I suddenly found myself in the exact opposite situation as when I’d first been with Itachi. This time it was me showing Gaara what to do. This time it was me gripping his hips as he moved inside of me, my back arching and heart heaving, until I tore apart with a jerk and above me Gaara gasped as he spilled warmth all through me and collapsed on my chest. This time it was me wrapping him in my arms and holding him as we drifted away to intoxicated and overwhelmed sleep.

Waking was slow and painful. Light stung my eyes, even with the lids closed, and my head pounded like my heartbeat. In this dull state, I at first mistook time. I felt I was back in the _Anbu_ boarding house, my arms around Itachi, waking in his bed.

Only, the root jabbing me in the side and the dirt on my face didn’t add up to that, and I had to open my eyes with a grunt in the present. On the ground, in the woods, Gaara coming awake in my arms, and our clothes strewn everywhere.

“Kakashi?”

The name propelled me. I peeled away from Gaara, letting him sit up. His face was haggard and those green eyes unfocused, trying to take in our situation.

I shook my head, regretted it, put a hand over my eyes. “We made a mistake.” Dizzy, queasy with quilt and liquor, I pushed to my feet. Unsteady.

“A mistake?” All huskiness from sleep and hangover had left Gaara’s voice.

“I never intended this to happen,” I said. My pants were on the ground, in a tangle. I shook them out and pulled them on, turning back to Gaara, already standing with his arms crossed. “We both had a bit too much to drink last night. We messed up. It’s probably best if we don’t mention this and go on with things like it didn’t happen.”

Gaara’s face was unreadable, the old Gaara face from when he was a kid, _kami_ , from when he was the weapon of _Sunagakure_ , fighting Lee in the _Chunin_ Exams.

“Yes, I understand,” he said. “In that case, we should be getting back to _Konoha_. I am sure we are already late.”

I was sure he was right, and sure I didn’t like the way he’d gone all cold. But there was nothing I felt I could do, the damage was already done, and when we got back to the _Hokage_ Residence, Shizune and Astronomer drove all thought of it from my mind.

I was scolded and bathed and reprimanded and pushed and swept into the _Hokage_ robes, and my life felt like a whirl out of my control. Why was I even _Hokage_? Someone else would have done it better. Someone else would have been more deserving. _Naruto_ would have done better by the village. I was just a placeholder until he was older and a little wiser.

My assistants didn’t have time for me or my mellow dramatic self-pity. They hustled me through some rushed, behind schedule introductions, then directed a whole conglomerate of _shinobi_ , _daimyō_ , Gaara, and me off to some ruins that’d been discovered a few months back. I had a vulgar memory of Shizune telling me they dated to the time of Hagoromo Ōtsutsuki and gushing wouldn’t it be wonderful to bring the treaty signing gathering there as a reminder our new peace was a returning to the Sage’s _ninshū_ way.

Still hungover, I didn’t find it wonderful at all. The sun was too bright, even under the trees, the air was too close, and every green thing growing over the tumbled stone foundations only reminded me of Gaara’s eyes. Nor was there much to see. Foundations, yes. But the buildings had been wood and were gone. There were matted paths and ancient trees and a lingering sense of _chakra_. Beyond that I could note nothing except how quiet Gaara was.

My fellow _kage_ made acknowledgments only in grunts and noises and noncommittal sounds. His face was undisturbed, but I’d seen Itachi’s detached face so much I’d come to understand pain hidden in the stoic. Gaara was hurting and there was only one easy answer why.

At first, I made an attempt to stay away from him. But I couldn’t. It was my twice damned fault. Though I hated what I’d done, and was sick over it, I couldn’t just pretend it hadn’t happened.

Sometime after midday, when the _daimyōs_ were tired and the _shinobi_ doing their best to distract them from the fact, I made my way to Gaara where he leaned on a worn stone. The _Kazekage_ stood with his arms crossed and his eyes downcast. A picture of…

I was in trouble.

I took off my headpiece as I approached. “Hey, Gaara.”

He blinked at me. “Kakashi.”

And that was it. I starred at him, this lovely boy, my mind a perpetual blank _Ahhh…_ going on and on as I twisted the headpiece round and round. Then I actually said it.

“Ahh…” _Kami. Ahh what, dumbass._

“What’s that?”

I surprised even myself with the question because I meant it. There was a something poking out of the overgrowth at the base of the stone where Gaara leaned, and my mind latched onto this to fill the gap.

Gaara followed my round-eyed gaze, moving away from the stone. “That is strange.”

“Yeah.” I moved into the place he vacated and squatted down to pull some vines away. At the base of the stone, _in_ the base of the stone, someone had carved a face. A mostly human face with three blank, black, empty eyes.

“What do you make of it, Kakashi?”

“I don’t know. I don’t remember Shizune of Astronomer mentioning anything about something like this.”

My fingers reached out to touch the stone face. Almost like they were pulled. Almost like how I’d reached for Gaara’s face the night before. Only this was nothing like that. There was a little sound, a wisp of breath in the still air, and I grunted, my eyes widening in shock.

I was surprised there was no pain. Only cold. Cold seeping down my throat and spreading over my side even as my blood spilled out, running down my neck and over the hand I raised to stop it. Or, merely to feel it.

 _Needles_ , I thought as I fell, as Gaara pulled me into his arms, calling my name over and over. _Fucking, poison needles._

I wanted to tell Gaara it’d be alright, it was damn fine actually. But my voice was frozen, and it wasn’t Gaara’s face I saw.

_Itachi._

Cradled on Gaara’s lap, head turned toward a sun and shade path, all I could see was my phantom love coming toward me. Face sad and eyes brooding.

_Why are you here, Itachi?_

He held out a slender hand to me. I took it. Somehow, and without the cold weight pressing me down, I took it. And the ruins were gone, and Gaara was gone, and I was standing by Itachi in the sun, somewhere I’d never been. Standing blinking, and so much younger than I’d been in years, and dressed in my old _Anbu_ gear.

“Itachi?”

My lover’s hand tightened on mine. “I’ve come to take you with me, Kakashi.”


	3. It's Time

I leaned on a worn, overgrown stone, arms crossed, gaze turned down to contemplate the stone chips littering the grass. Or, to convince anyone with business for me I did so. My mind was occupied with Kakashi. We had known one another for years, but in a night, all of that had changed.

I came to _Konoha_ to strengthen the bonds of peace fought so hard for in the war, but the pomp and performance I found were hollow. I needed to find another method. And what better way than to entertain Kakashi Hatake, the _Hokage_ , in so simple and companionable an activity as sneaking away to share a drink? I had not expected the night to go as it did. The matron at the bar unsettled me with her touch and her sight directly into the hidden meanings behind my tattoo. Meanings which had struck a deeper cord in me since the war and Naruto’s wedding. How could she have known the restless pain moving beneath the surface of me when she had never met me?

This, and the wine and the sudden flash in Kakashi’s eyes when he reached out to touch my face, served to awaken in me things I had suppressed in favor of doing what was best for _Sunagakure_. I had had it in my mind to find a woman to marry, but I held no regret for what we had done when I woke in Kakashi’s arms.

So, it stung all the more when my fellow _Kage_ called our actions a mistake and said we should pretend they had not occurred. Yet, I could not be angry with him. Not when I saw the haunted pain in his eyes, not when I comprehended the hurt in them, as though he had committed some secret betrayal. No. All I could do was go cold and not allow him to see my own hurt.

The hurt remained though, like an itching beneath my skin. All through the day, and the pageantry which came with it, I attempted to do my duty and stay out of the way. Hoping only to finish my business in _Konoha_ and return home. But it made me tired and the solace of the rock supporting me was all I expected to find.

“Hey, Gaara.”

I blinked at the picture of Kakashi before me and said his name. He stood there like a promise, like a possibility, painted in dappled sunlight; a schoolboy twisting his headpiece in his hands. Nor did I resent the wordless sound he made, or the redirection of our attention to the thing in the stone I had leaned on he used to fill the void of the words he could not find. There was still pain in his eyes, but he had come to speak with me.

All the same, I could not help my own interest in the thing Kakashi had noted. “That is strange,” I said, and peered at the protrusion, head tilting to the side.

“Yeah,” Kakashi agreed, bending to move aside some of the tangled growth obscuring the three-eyed stone face. It plucked at a memory, almost a half-recalled dream. I did not like it at all.

“What do you make of it, Kakashi?”

“I don’t know,” he responded. “I don’t remember Shizune or Astronomer mentioning anything about something like this.”

Slow, as though half mesmerized, he reached out to touch the glooming face. Just a whisper of his fingertips across its surface and there was a pulse of _chakra_ and a flash of steel from the empty eyes, and Kakashi was raising his hand to his throat where blood bloomed a macabre rose.

“Eh! Kakashi!” The man wilted even as I said his name, and I moved to catch him. I pulled him into my arms, cradling him on my lap. His blood coated my hands as a swelling, cicada thrum droned in my ears, drowning even my voice calling his name over and over.

“Kakashi! Kakashi!”

I wanted to drag him further from that deadly face, but I dared not move him anymore than I dared touch those three needles emanating malice and cold _chakra_. All I could do was gasp and take in the horror of it.

It was senseless, Kakashi lying in my arms. Hadn’t we only woken together with the morning? Was it only in the night he had looked at me, and broke me in an entirely different manner than this? It was my most grievous fault. He had only found the stone face because he came to make amends with me.

Under the all-consuming hum in my ears, I did not note the _shinobi_ coming toward me, alerted by my distress, until they were around me. Shizune and Astronomer and my own men and one saying, “Lord Gaara! Oh, _kami_! Oh, hell!”

It was meaningless. Even my hollow voice saying, “The stone face, do not touch it.” Little seemed real beyond Kakashi.

Shizune was the first to shake off shock. “We need a medical ninja! Now! Find Tsunade!”

_Yes_ , a distant part of my mind agreed. _Bring Lady Tsunade. Bring Sakura. Bring anyone._ But I could not deny the truth before me. I had seen too much death. I could not lie to myself about what I held in my arms.

“Kakashi!”

† † †

“Itachi?”

My lover’s hand tightened on mine. “I’ve come to take you with me, Kakashi.”

“To take me with you,” I echoed, my eyes wide and round. “Is this why you came to see me yesterday, Itachi?”

He didn’t answer in words. His dark eyes brooded and were full of that thing I didn’t understand, a strange sadness beyond his usual melancholy. With soft care, he reached for my face and let his hand linger there a moment before pushing down my mask and pressing his lips to mine. His mouth left me breathless, holding an urgency I’d rarely felt from him. The darkness in his gaze stripped away whatever defenses I might have had, leaving me with a question I needed answered.

“Itachi-”

“Walk with me, Kakashi.”

I didn’t protest the refusal to even hear my question. Itachi always had his reasons. He’d answer when he was ready. Knowing that, I let him lead me on, my eyes focused on the ground.

When we’d walked for a while in silence, I looked up to take in where we were. The woods were gone, and it didn’t appear we were anywhere near _Konoha_. The place was green and open and mostly flat, aside from some mellow hills. A light wind moved the grass, but it, and distant insect song, were the only sounds. There was an overwhelming feeling of emptiness everywhere, and I needed to break the quiet.

“Where are we, Itachi?”

My companion raised his face to the breeze, letting it move his long hair. “It has many names in many places and times, Kakashi. Of them all, the one I have become most fond of is the Clearing at the End of the Path. You have been here before when you spoke to your father during Pain’s attack on _Konoha_.”

I stopped, a little pain twisting in me. “The Clearing at the End of the Path. Than this is it, huh?”

The wind whipped Itachi’s high collar over the lower half of his face. “Come with me, Kakashi.”

I let him tug me on, my heart pounding with two conflicting emotions. “If this is the end of the path, why aren’t Rin and Obito here?”

“They are in another place. They still have much to talk about.”

My heart caught, and the hot prick of tears stung my eyes. “Right.”

I found I couldn’t look at him, couldn’t let him see how much it hurt. But Itachi had always been able to see through me. He stopped us, let go of my hand, and drifted away from me.

“You can’t be jealous. We will all be together soon, but for now, isn’t this what you wanted, Kakashi? Me, just to yourself?”

A sound escaped my throat, and I looked up to find him watching me and removing his cloak. Under our feet, a blanket had been spread over the grass, as if he’d been planning to lead me there all along. I tried to speak, but my voice was broken. “Itachi.”

“I have missed you since the day I left _Konoha_ , Kakashi.”

The burning in my eyes became more intense, and the pain twisting at my heart snapped something inside. “Hold me, Itachi. Please, just hold me.”

He wrapped me in his arms and I cried. Cried for Rin and Obito, cried for Itachi and all the years I’d spent alone, even cried for what a poor _Hokage_ I’d been, and for Gaara and how I’d left him without managing to say I was sorry.

Itachi let me empty out all the pent pain I’d held without interruption. Only when I began to breathe normally again did he loosen his hold to wipe the salt tears from my face.

“Shall I take you to bed, Kakashi?”

“Oh _kami_ , Itachi.”

He had me on the ground with the urgency of his kiss, but once there he moved with excruciating slowness, his hand moving on me until my breath was heaving.

“ _Kami_!” I cursed. “Hell, Itachi.”

“Do you want me to stop? I have wanted this with you for a long time, Kakashi.”

His thumb did something on that spot below my head and I moaned. “Please!”

“Please?” Another movement making me twitch.

“Don’t stop! Please! Itachi!”

I gasped, my eyes flaring wide as I came.

He sighed. “Kakashi.” Then his mouth was on me, bringing me to hardness again. Just when I thought I couldn’t take it anymore, Itachi shifted his position and I was inside of him and we were both panting and some of the pieces of my heart felt like they were melding back together.

† † †

_Konoha_ was silent in the wake of the events at the ruins. The _shinobi_ of the Leaf were struck and quiet in their grief. At least, those not on missions or sent to guard the ruins against intrusion and further misfortune. This left Dark’s bar as empty as the night before, when Kakashi and I had snuck away to share a drink.

I had been expected to remain in the _Hokage_ Residence, but I found myself too restless for such waiting. Using what Kakashi had shown me, I made my exit to share Dark’s indefinable company. The woman seemed to have as fine a grasp on the details of what had happened as if she’d been there. She asked no questions and offered only the solace of wine for some hours.

It was only when she brought me my second bottle, she spoke to me.

“Pointless for me to say I’m sorry, Lord Gaara of the Sand.”

“There shouldn’t have been any danger.” My voice was rough with wine and a hurt lodged in the core of me.

Dark took a bottle off a high shelf and poured out two glasses of liquor as clear as water. “For a _shinobi_ , there is danger in everything. We walk with it every day and make it our lover.”

I accepted the glass she held out to me, as scentless as it was colorless. “Yet, if it were not for me, he would never have encountered this danger.”

“And walked straight into another. Don’t blame yourself, _Kazekage_.” She indicated the glass in my hand. “Drink instead.”

I did as she asked and gasped at the burn of it sliding into my midriff. My host seemed not to feel it as she swallowed her own.

“Blame is useless. Better to think of this, Gaara of the Sand. Haven’t you seen a face such as the one in the stone before?”

Even through the haze of the liquor, and the heat in the center of me, I froze inside. The memory of Kaguya Ōtsutsuki and Ten Tails raising ice in my veins.

As if sensing my thoughts, Dark nodded her head. “There will be work to be done, _Kazekage_. But not yet. Tonight is for other things.” She touched my cheek with a curled finger, as if she were brushing away a tear. “Feel.”

The word and the gesture tore lose the hurt in me, and it flowed out on a flood of weeping. “I want him back, Dark.”

She brushed her fingers through my hair once and again. “I know.”

† † †

“Ha! Ah!” I sprawled on the blanket, limp and shivering. “Y-you’re going to kill me, Itachi.”

“Do you want me to stop?”

I squeezed my eyes closed and groaned. Itachi’s hands were working on me again, raising me back up to that point of unbearable pleasure. “Ngh! There’s no need to do this all at once!”

My lover’s face was full of that thing I didn’t understand. “There is never enough time to do all the things one could wish to do.”

I made a small sound, which had nothing to do with what his hands were doing to me. “Itachi?”

He let go of me, pulled himself forward, so his stomach was near mine, and thrust inside me. “There is something we need to talk about, Kakashi.”

I grunted, my eyes wide and heart and head pounding. “Egh! Now?!”

Sadness behind his eyes, slow need in his motions. “We have little time left. It concerns Gaara.”

Guilt and pain roared through my mind. Hot tears leaked out of me against my attempt to hold them back. “I’m sorry, Itachi. Do you hate me?” The words were a distant memory. Us, together in the _Anbu_ boarding house. _Do you despise me, Kakashi?_

“My Kakashi.” He pressed his forehead to mine in his old show of affection, even as he kept thrusting, making me gasp. “I can’t be jealous. I, least of all, have that right. But it isn’t jealousy or blame I want to discuss. Only Gaara. You do like him, don’t you, Kakashi?”

“Ah! No!” I squirmed under him, at the point of stimulation where it bordered on discomfort. “Ha! Yes! But it doesn’t matter. I’m with you, Itachi.”

Above me, Itachi pushed forward and exhaled a soft, surprised huff of air as he came. One more motion, and I joined him with a cry. Then he was just lying by me, pulling me into his arms.

“Not for much longer.”

All my air escaped me. I tried to turn in his arms to face him, but he wouldn’t let me. I could feel his hot tears on my neck though.

“I have been allowed a short time to say good-bye to you, Kakashi. But when it is done, you will not see me again until you truly reach the clearing at the end of your path.”

“But why, Itachi?! Tell me why!” Panic and disbelief battled inside me. What he was saying made no _kami_ damned sense.

“Why? Kakashi.” He poked me in the forehead from behind, the motion full of tenderness. “Because it’s time you had no more need of ghosts. And because it’s time you had someone just to yourself. Gaara is waiting for you.”

I ran a hand over my eyes. “I don’t want to lose you, Itachi. Can’t you see that? I’ll always need you.”

He was quiet. He nuzzled his face into my neck and just breathed a moment. Then he rolled me over, so he could kiss me.

“You can’t lose me, Kakashi. Remember what I told you while we watched the sun set. We leave a piece of ourselves behind with those we love. I will be with you even while I wait for you with Rin and Obito.”

“Rin.” I barked a laugh full of harsh _natsukashii_ and longing dejection and pressed a hand to my face. “If she were here, she’d be telling me to go fuck Gaara, wouldn’t she?”

“Should I say it for her?”

Another laugh broke out of me. “Oh _kami_ , Itachi! How long do we have left?”

“Not long, Kakashi.”

I shook my head. “It better be long enough. I want you to fuck me again, Itachi.”

† † †

There was still no pain. Only cold and weight as I grunted and pulled my way out of unconsciousness. My eyelids felt like they weighed the same as lead, and all I could think was what a drag it was to be alive and have to go back to being _Hokage_. And without even Itachi to break the monotony.

I starred with droll aggravation at the hospital ceiling for quite a while, trying to get used to being alive, before I noticed a real weight on my chest and soft breathing. It took far more effort than it needed to for me to turn my head, but a little sound came out when I saw the source of the shallow breathes.

Gaara’s red hair fell over his face. His head rested on my chest and, in that position, he looked more like the kid he used to be than the _Kazekage_ he was. The picture of him there twisted up the messed-up pieces of my heart.

It took far more effort than moving my head, but I got my hand on that hair and ran my fingers through it. Gaara muttered in his sleep, then opened his dark-rimed eyes. “Hey, Gaara.”

“Ah! Kakashi!”

Gaara sat up, pulling away from my hand. “You are awake!”

“Yeah.” Ah. There was the pain. My throat felt like there was a _kunai_ lodged in it. I let out a low groan. “I feel like I died.”

“You did.”

I turned my gaze on my fellow _Kage_. “Oh?”

Gaara kept his distance. He was cold again, like the morning after our drunk rump when I’d cut him up. “Lady Tsunade had to place you in suspended animation until Sakura could extract the poison and foreign _chakra_ and restart your heart. They were not sure if they could do it.”

“Umm. That explains a lot.”

“I do not see how it explains much. But, as you are awake, I will bring Sakura. She wanted to know if there was any change.”

He moved to stand, but I reached a slow hand for him, eyes widening with the thought of him going. “Gaara. I’m sorry.”

“There is nothing to be sorry for, Lord _Hokage_.”

“Yes, there is.” Tears broke in my eyes. Continuing to reach for him, I let my eyes plead, as my throat hurt so fucking bad.

And Gaara’s coldness dropped away, to my relief. He leaned closer to me in response to my reaching hand, willing to rest his head on me again, but I grunted a no and shook my head.

“Come here.”

A little surprised, but not unwilling, Gaara climbed onto the bed beside me and I dropped an arm over him.

“I’m sorry I was an ass. I had to go talk to someone to realize I was being an idiot.”

“I do not understand. Kakashi, who did you need to speak with?”

I made a wordless sound, too tired to explain. All that mattered was Gaara’s warmth in my arms, and my tender ghosts waiting for me in the Clearing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I know I have left some loose ends with this. I have an enigmatic bar keep I will (likely) kill off, and some stone faces I need to deal with. (Sorry about that. I was watching a bit too much Jojo's Bizarre Adventure while writing this...) Things being as they are, I will carry on with this story line at some point. You know, when my bastard muse decides to behave... In the meantime, I will soon be posting an alternative universe bit I have stuck in my head. And a final note. The concept of the Clearing at the End of the Path is not mine. I just borrowed it from Sai Stephen King for use on this other level of the Tower. Long days and pleasant nights y'all.

**Author's Note:**

> I love comments, and make it a point to reply to every one I receive. Also, feel free to come hang out with me and a group of other amazing fic writers and readers on my small Discord server [Harmony](https://discord.gg/TUujJCs) in a fun Facebook group [AO3 Armada](https://www.facebook.com/groups/601270063618951)
> 
> Or even poke around my [author page](https://www.facebook.com/LeoOtherland/)
> 
> There will be some fun things happening there later in the year.


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